


The Long Way Round

by AvatarWanderful



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Lesbians in Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:24:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5361293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarWanderful/pseuds/AvatarWanderful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Hell Bent, Clara and Me fight and fuck their way across the universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Way Round

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Christmas present to my lovely friend Beth (hayleyatwellisbae on tumblr). Clara is a dork and Me is a suave idiot.

'God damn it Me! Jane Austen never fucked up this badly!'  
Me coughed violently as the Diner kitchen filled with smoke. The turkey had caught fire. Again.  
'Well shit, Clara, did oh-so-perfect Jane Austen fight in the Battle of Agincourt? Did she survive the Black Death and the end of the world and people wearing Crocs all the damned time?!'  
Clara flinched - she knew Jane was a sore spot for Me, but she could never resist bringing up her second love when she was angry at the immortal, regardless of how awful she always felt afterwards.  
'I'm sorry Me. Jane never really cooked either, so to be honest she probably wouldn't have been able to cook a Pot Noodle, let alone roast a turkey.' Me didn't react to the blatant anachronism of Jane Austen potentially attempting to cook a Pot Noodle - she was too used to time travel by now for it to even register as odd.  
'Well, at least our kitchen can travel through time. We can stop off on Arborillium, catch another one, and start over. Christmas day will just have to wait until we're ready for it.'  
'You know, I don't think I'll ever get over the fact that turkeys are aliens. I mean, I know those dangly bits under the beak are freaky and all, but still...'

xxx

It took 317 attempts for the two of them to actually roast a turkey. Though to be fair, saying they roasted a turkey would be something of an overstatement. Clara managed to roast it once Me finally stopped 'helping'. As it turns out, immortality simply isn't conducive to cooking.  
'What can I say, I've never needed to eat! Mire technology apparently considers eating a disease. I'm cured of the one disease people actually enjoy.' Clara looked at Me the way she used to look at the Doctor - that look that says 'you are one of the most intelligent and knowledgeable organisms in the universe, how do you not know how to [insert basic skill]?'

xxx

As it turns out, being dead simply isn't conducive to eating. After balancing on her head long enough for the Christmas dinner to revisit the cruel universe that created it, she set to work on cleaning the Diner floor of the waves of projectile vomit she had produced.  
'I'm sorry Clara. I know you loved Christmas dinners. 317 attempts and it turns out you can't even eat. Who wants to live forever?'  
'That's the thing though, Me. I don't get to live forever. You do. You live forever and I die forever. As an English teacher, the irony's beautiful. As a corpse, I bloody well hate it.'  
Me looked over at Clara, at those big, sad eyes of hers. Suddenly, Me realised what she'd been missing in her billions of years of life, and how to cheer Clara up.

xxx

The two women were curled up in bed in the Diner. As it turns out, immortality is very much conducive to sex. Neither of the two had any firm idea how long they'd been in bed, but neither really cared.  
'So you say Jane Austen never fucked up as badly as I did. Did she ever fuck as well as I did?' Clara rolled her eyes at how crude Me could be.  
'Well she certainly never had your stamina, though I suppose it would be unfair to hope she could.'

xxx

Me was writing in her diary. Clara never read Me's diaries, she could never bring herself to invade the shorter woman's privacy in that way, regardless of how often Me told her she was welcome to browse the countless shelves of diary after diary after diary (and regardless of how infuriating it was whenever Me would tell her 'you know my name, not my story'). However, Clara could never resist watching Me when she was writing. The expressions on Me's face as she recorded another chapter in her life fascinated Clara.  
'What are we? I mean, how do you refer to me in your diaries?' The question slipped off her tongue before she could resist the urge to ask it.  
'Well, this may come as a surprise, but I generally refer to you as Clara.'  
Clara rolled her eyes.

xxx

Time didn't really mean much to either of them anymore. Me lived forever, Clara died forever, they travelled forever. The Diner always stuck out like a sore thumb in their travels, but it was home. Besides, neither of them were really comfortable with the idea that TARDISes with fully functional chameleon circuits might exist somewhere out there in the cosmos.  
One Christmas day on New Earth, Clara asked the question again.  
'What are we?' Me turned to look at her.  
'Simple. We're girlfriends. Girlfriends who fight and fuck their way across the universe, sure, but girlfriends.'  
Clara grinned and leaned in for a kiss. Just before their lips met, she heard Me whisper to herself.  
'Immortality's not so bad when you're not alone.'  
Gallifrey could wait. They'd get there the long way round.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like it. If you want me to post more, message me prompts on trashanddrivel.tumblr.com


End file.
